


when the long trick's over

by recrudescence



Category: Firefly
Genre: Community: fandom_stocking, F/M, Incest, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-10
Updated: 2011-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 15:47:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/recrudescence/pseuds/recrudescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The best cover they can afford is in a ramshackle seaside town a ways off from the nearest city.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the long trick's over

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ChokolatteJedi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/gifts).



The best cover they can afford is in a ramshackle seaside town a ways off from the nearest city. The two of them are being put up in one of the little beach cabins to wait for the repairs to finish. They’ve got a radio in case anything happens, which it shouldn't, but the city itself is too Alliance-friendly to be safe and they can’t be on the ship. Simon is nervous, but it truly is an isolated place and Kaylee is adamant that the work will only take a few days. There are worse places he and River could be while Serenity needs fixing.

“Stay inside as much as you can,” is Mal's parting advice. “If anyone asks,” he adds, a hint of a smirk visible on his face, “you're honeymooning.”

It's like a vacation. There isn't much to do but explore the beach, which Simon reasons is safe enough since they don't have any neighbors within sight. The novelty of getting to swim and play in the sand like a child is one of the best medications he could ever prescribe, and River throws herself into both without a hitch. By dinnertime, she's salty and sunburned. Her face is framed by wet stringy hair that still smells like the sea, in addition to having a grin and a few freckles on it now.

Simon hates that he has to see her stop smiling when he puts the final touches on dinner.

“Finding the raw ingredients appealing doesn't necessarily entail a palatable combination.” She picks at her stew and eventually concedes that even Simon can't render fruit salad inedible.

Night is humid. Scrubbing off in the old-fashioned tub helps for a short time, but River insists it's too hot to sleep. Pouting and complaining and slipping off her nightgown, wriggling away when Simon tries to guide it back over her head.

“I'm your wife until we go home,” says River. “蜜月."

When Simon bends to kiss her forehead, she tips her chin up to press her lips against his. “Doctors need to keep up with their trade. You have nothing but time. No data, no text, only bodies.”

“River, you aren't a cadaver.”

“Are you?” Her arms feel frail around his neck. Simon can still smell the sea clinging to her skin. When she smiles into his cheek, he shivers in spite of the heat. In the back of his mind, he can hear Kaylee laughing at him for thinking propriety matters out in the black.

“Don't play dead,” River whispers, sounding worried, and Simon tucks back her hair.

“Lie back,” he tells her, “and close your eyes.”

The days are hot on this part of the world, but there's only a tiny icebox in their little kitchen. He settles an ice cube into the dip of her navel and smiles when she gives a little shriek and bats at him. “安静. Hold still.”

Another, in the hollow of her neck, another when he draws down her panties enough to bare the swoop of a hip bone. Kissing the cold streams of water from her body, working upward until his chilled mouth is over her hot one, and River moans for him, nipples firm under his thumbs as he draws up her camisole so gently she doesn’t seem to realize he’s done it until he’s guiding her to lift her arms so he can pull it off all the way.

She has a dancer's body, lithe and taut, long legs toned and bending easily out of the way, feet to the worn sheets on the mattress. Her body is arching and streaked with ice water when he licks a line up the center of her cunt, feels her clench at his fingertips and moan things like _need_ and _can't_ and _more_. His fingers slip up between her thighs, through cool water and along the heated slickness of her cunt and she curves her back and bucks off the mattress to urge them inside. Pleading for more until she’s filled and hotcold and sobbing, too intense to hold back, tears at the corners of her eyes, and when all is said and done her bed is a mess so she crawls into Simon’s with him.

The two of them hold each other tight even though the night is warmer than Serenity ever is.

He wakes up with her warm little mouth kissing at his neck, thighs slipping around his waist, River slipping him inside her with a quiet mewl. Fucking him awake, his hands on her back and helping her set the rhythm.

Predawn gives way to early morning, sunrise prickling through the curtains and his sister’s flawless skin under his hands, her gasping mouth pursed like a rosebud against his own, and she whimpers when he goes licking between her legs to taste both of them there and make her come again. It doesn't matter how noisy she is now, wailing and wriggling under him, pushing greedily into his mouth as he slides two fingers back inside her, feeling her shudder and clutch around him from the inside.

They have to go back to life on the run and the cool sterile ship walls soon, but sunshine and freedom taste so sweet. River’s belly tenses under his lips, little bite marks fading against her skin. She keeps running her fingers over them again and again, touching herself everywhere Simon’s touched her. Tracing her fingertips where his cock disappears into her, lapping them clean after. Lashes fluttering against her cheeks, hands fluttering against his back, hair tangled on the pillows and a leg pushing across the sheets, spreading herself open wider.

For once, they have a place of their own, and Simon never mentions that they could stay, live here in isolation with no one the wiser, but the thought is far more idyllic than reality and River deserves better. If River knows what he's thinking, she never mentions it either.

The day comes when the radio crackles and he’s inside River, the two of them wrapped together making love on the hammock. She can't keep quiet, never could, and when Simon puts a hand over her mouth she only smiles against his palm and cries out anyway, undulating and rippling and orgasming there in his lap as Jayne demands to know what the hell is going on over there.

Simon lies and says that she’s just having a dream.

“It's time to be quiet again,” he says to her, once the radio is off and the laughter has faded from her eyes.

“Like stowaways,” River mumbles, shifting against Simon until she can touch her forehead to his. “Like liabilities.”

Washing up takes barely any time, but Simon stretches it out as much as he can, kneading the sponge along River's skin until the water is lukewarm and her head is lolling against the rim of the tub. He goes to kiss her once more, but she ducks so his lips brush her forehead instead. “The honeymoon is over.”

The ship arrives a few hours later. The two of them ready and respectable again: River with her bare feet on the sand and her dress blowing in the breeze, Simon with his top two shirt buttons undone and a bag in each of his hands.

Mal gives a little nod of satisfaction and says it looks like the time there did them good.


End file.
